Paper Boy
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: "But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper."


_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I simply sit here and write my oneshots. I'm working on around five or six of these right now, so I've been a little slow. And tired. **_

_**Note, mark May 19, 2013: I wrote this story one year, five months and six days ago. I liked it, I thought it was a great story, but I still think it could be improved. So, here is Paper Boy, mk. II. **_

….

_"Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand._

_'Again?' said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. 'Very well, Alice dear, very well- Neville, take it, whatever it is.'_

_But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper._

_'Very nice, dear,' said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder._

_But Neville said quietly, 'Thanks, Mum.' "-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Chapter 23: Christmas on the Closed Ward_

...

She woke up to the screaming. Loud, piercing wails that echoed in her ears and hurt her head. She sometimes would have to sit in a corner and yell at the voice to go away. They were loud voices that liked to say mean things to her, things that she wondered about. They would tell her that she was crazy, that no one truly loved her; she wasn't sure what to think about such things, because she wasn't quite sure what 'crazy' was, or what 'love' was. Were those things she _wanted _to be, or were they bad things that would get her in trouble?

The woman who visited the white room, the one with the nice voice, would always run over and tug her hands away from her ears. The woman's arms would encircle her in a comforting embrace, whispering to her, stories and faery-tales. When this happened, a word would drift through her head, the name of what this embrace meant, but she could never recall it. That happened a lot-emotions or words popping into her head, but never long enough to truly remember it.

She knew her hair was wispy and white, because there was a shiny, reflective circle next to her sleeping area. She liked to look into it, sometimes, stroking her soft hair, or she watched the nice lady brush her hair in the morning. Her hair had been white for as long as she could remember, though, this often confused her, because she had memories of light brown hair, long and thick, swirling about her face. Her face was paler, thinner than what her mind told her it ought to be, like she had two memories running through her head all the time, and she could never figure out which one was right.

The nice-voiced woman called her "Alice". She wondered if that was her name. It was a pretty name, she supposed. Alice. Alice, Alice, Alice-a name that reflected something happier in her life, as if there had been a time _before _the white room; she knew this was impossible, of course. Alice had been born in the white room, and she had never left it. Sometimes, she would wander about the white (the walls, the floors, the beds, curtains, everything, was always white and she _hated _it.) room murmuring the name to herself. _Alice. Alice. Alice. _It made her smile.

She wondered what the man's name was, the one who lay in the bed next to her. He never spoke, not like her. She had never heard him scream, or even whimper. She wondered what it would be like to live in a world of silence. It made her screams sound all the louder, as if to make up for the noise he was incapable of making. His hair was brownish-grey, his eyes staring, blank. Were her eyes blank, like his?

Sometimes, an older lady came in. Alice called her "Hat Woman", because she had a horrible hat with a bright, stuffed winged creature atop it that scared Alice. Hat Woman would always rush to talk to the silent man, babbling away, as if she thought he would respond. The man never did, and it always seemed to make the hat droop a little, as the woman's body sunk downward.

Eventually, Hat Woman would turn to Alice with a sick smile. Even Alice-who struggled to understand facial expressions most of the time- could tell the woman's smile was false. It told Alice secrets. "_I don't like you._" said the smile. "_It's your fault he doesn't talk."_ She didn't like the woman with the bobbing winged creature on her head. She was too fast, too loud, too demanding. She reminded Alice of someone, someone she'd met before…..before something, but Alice couldn't remember who or when.

Trailing behind Hat Woman was a little boy. She liked the boy, the one that made her want to embrace him, like the nice woman did to her. What would happen if she did, even just for a second? Alice was afraid Hat Woman would take the boy away if she touched him. Yet, whenever he left, she felt compelled to give him the paper from her chewy pink candy. He always smiled when she did, even though Hat Woman would scowl and say "Neville, throw that away! It's garbage."

"_Garbage. It's garbage._"

Except it wasn't, was it? The boy never acted like it was. He would smile when she gave him the paper and say "Thanks, Mum." She didn't understand why he called her that. Was she his mum? What was a mum, anyway? She didn't know, and she didn't understand why he called her that, but the word drew up images of a soft woman, not unlike the nice lady in the white room.

….

The boy, Neville, grew up, first a child, and then a teenager. He came less and less frequently as he got bigger, which upset her. Alice wanted the nice, smiling boy to come back more often, so she could give him the papers from her candy. When he wasn't there, the nice lady would through her papers away, because she didn't understand why Alice had them.

The man in the other bed seemed to notice the boy's absence during one of the Hat Woman's visits. He scowled and pushed her away, making gestures for her to leave him alone. The woman seemed offended, scowling at him, with her hands on her hips.

"What? What do you want, Frank? Is it not enough that your own mother visits you? Do you need to see your son as well, every damn time? Am I not good enough for you, anymore? That's fine, Frank, I understand! I'm not good enough for anyone anymore, am I? Not you, not Neville! I ought to just die now, shouldn't I? After all, I'm just a useless old woman, right, Frank?!"

Alice frowned and tucked herself away in a corner away from the yelling, which was loud and hurt her ears. It wasn't quite an argument, as the man never yelled back, the silent, sad man. Alice almost wanted him to, just to hear his voice. Eventually, the nice, smiley woman found her, hiding, long after the Hat Woman left.

"It's ok, Alice. Everything's fine." She murmured, leading Alice back to bed. She gave Alice a sad smile, stroking her hair in a comforting manner. Alice wanted to tell the smiley lady that everything was _not_ _fine_. The man wouldn't talk; the Hat Lady was too loud. The little boy wasn't here. Where was he? She realized that day, as the smiley woman stroked her hair and sang to her pleasant songs, that she was being treated like a child. This was what….someone had done to her when she was a little girl, when she cried. She pushed at the smiley woman, making her leave.

She didn't want to be treated like a kid. She wasn't a little girl, she wasn't a baby. She was an adult, Alice. She knew that now, and she knew that the nice woman had been treating her and the silent man like idiots for years; suddenly, she didn't seem so nice anymore. Just someone who would stand around and pity them.

….

Several years later, though Alice knew nothing about the concept of time in her white room, the boy returned. Except now, he was a young man with light coloured hair and clear eyes that reminded her of someone else. He showed up without the Hat Woman,-who, Alice had noticed, came less and less now-but not alone. There was a smaller, thinner man behind him, standing hesitantly. The other man had dark hair and bright green eyes.

Something about those eyes scared Alice. Watching him carefully, she had to sit down, as if overcome by an illness. An image flashed through her mind of a dark haired young man with his arm around a woman with dark red hair and eyes just like the boy. The woman in her mind smiled at Alice and laughed, calling out to her.

"Mum?" asked the paper boy, the one who always came. Alice looked up at him, startled, and he smiled at her, sitting down next to her on the bed. The green eyed boy sat in a chair next to him. "Hey, Mum, it's nice to see you, again. This is my friend, Harry Potter. Say hi, Harry."

"Mrs. Longbottom?" murmured the green eyed boy, and Alice frowned in confusion. She didn't know who Mrs. Longbottom was. She'd never heard that name, and it scared her, because not much seemed to be sticking to her much more often now. She was forgetting everything, and she didn't like it.

"No, Harry. Call her Alice. I don't think she quite knows her married name." corrected the paper boy. He smiled at her, and the green eyed boy nodded.

….

A few years later, the paper boy returned, this time with a light haired woman he called Hannah. She stood shyly beside the paper boy, smiling at her. Alice found she liked the light haired woman, who always brought her sweets and games. She spoke to Alice in a kind voice, but she did not act like Alice was an idiot, not like the nice woman, who was now turning old and grey.

She didn't know how much later, but at some point, the paper boy began showing up with a little girl with the same hair as Hannah, but with the paper boy's eyes. The girl would smile at Alice and wave her hands in a playful gesture. For some reason, this reminded Alice of a baby boy, doing the same thing, though she couldn't recall ever meeting a baby boy in the white room.

….

Eventually, she began having trouble remembering anything, even the paper boy, whom she still handed the candy paper each visit. He always accepted it from her with a grateful smile, though he seemed more troubled now, as he spoke to her. Alice could tell he was trying to hide it, but she had memorized the paper boy's face, and she could see the sadness in his eyes when he spoke to her.

He still called her Mum, smiling and telling her stories of the little girl, who he called Luna. He brought another girl, named Alice, a little baby girl with pale, almost white hair, and blue, blue eyes. Alice wanted to tell the boy that that was her name, but she couldn't. Alice wasn't able to talk anymore, only scream. Besides, not long after the paper boy left that day, she forgot all about the other Alice.

She soon began forgetting many things easily, which upset her greatly. The smiley woman had long since been replaced by another, who had to help her with everything. She felt even more like a child. She often would get lost in the white room, unable to find her way back, and she was scared when she began to forget her own name. Alice would chant the names in her head, murmuring to herself, '_Alice, Hannah, and Paper Boy._' But, so quickly, they would fade from her mind, leaving her alone and afraid.

The screaming in her head became louder. Always yelling, the loud voices, always in her head. They continued to tell her how worthless she was. The voices drowned out the names she so desperately tried to remember, until she forgot them all together. All she could ever hear anymore was the loud shrieking in her head, hurting her and making her upset.

She didn't like the voices.

She didn't like forgetting everything.

….

"_Alice Longbottom was found in her hospital bed yesterday morning, dead. Aged 57, Alice Longbottom was the wife of Frank Longbottom (aged 58) and mother of Neville Longbottom. (Age 37) She was the grandmother to Luna (Age 7), Alice (Age 3), and baby Hannah (Age 5 months). _

_In 1981, Alice and her husband (Aurors) were tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange, along with her husband Rodolphus and his brother, Rabastan, as well as Bartemius Crouch Jr. She spent the remainder of her life in the Janus Thickey Ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. It is noted that Alice Longbottom was incapable of ever recognizing her son, though, on his visits, she gave his paper wrapping from Drooble's Best Chewing Gum…"_


End file.
